


You're Never Fully Dressed

by eternaleponine



Series: Love In Inappropriate Places [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dressing Room Sex, F/F, Hospitals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22631677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Lexa discovers that in her haste to pack to get to Luna, she forgot a critical item: pants.  When she goes to buy a new pair, Clarke decides she might need some help...
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Series: Love In Inappropriate Places [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1352764
Comments: 37
Kudos: 213





	You're Never Fully Dressed

"Damn it!" 

Lexa stared at the pile of clothing on the hotel bed, the result of her upending her bag and dumping its contents to make sure she wasn't somehow just missing them, but no. No. She'd somehow managed to forget to pack pants. 

She scrubbed at her eyes, blinking furiously against the flood of tears that threatened to spill over. 

It wasn't really a big deal in the grand scheme of things. She wasn't in the middle of nowhere, she could just go to the store and buy new pants. It wasn't really pants (or lack thereof) she was crying over. It was... everything. 

It was Luna, lying in a hospital bed, skin pale and clammy where it wasn't livid with sores, and the fear in her eyes when she looked at Lexa that she tried to hide when she turned her gaze to Clarke, her best and only hope. 

It was the way Clarke's forehead had furrowed when she looked at Luna's chart, at her symptoms and vitals and all of the things that had already been ruled out. It was the brittle edges of her smile when she'd assured Luna that she was going to do everything she could to get her through this. Whatever _this_ was. 

It was the fact that Clarke had told her she loved her, and Lexa had said it back, and meant it, but now Clarke was responsible for saving Lexa's best friend and she'd promised – _promised_ she would because she wasn't going to get Lexa's heart get broken, but what if she couldn't? What if she couldn't, and Luna died, and it was... not Clarke's fault, but...

Lexa swept her arm across the bed, clearing the clothes from it to land in a heap on the floor that she didn't bother to clean up, because what did it matter? Clarke was still at the hospital, might be all night, but it wasn't her hospital and she wasn't in any position to ask for special favors so Lexa had been kicked out when visiting hours ended. She stripped off her yoga pants and the still damp underwear underneath, then squirmed out of her bra, crawling into bed in only a t-shirt, where she buried her face in a pillow and sobbed.

* * *

As soon as Lexa was gone, shooed out by the nurses whose job it was to enforce visiting hours, Luna fixed Clarke in her gaze, pinning her in place when she would have preferred to pace, because sometimes movement helped her think. "She's gone," Luna said. "You can give it to me straight."

Clarke almost laughed. She managed to swallow it just in time, because it wouldn't be professional to tell a patient, "I'm sorry, I can't give anything to anyone straight, because I'm not." Even if the patient was Lexa's friend, which made Clarke feel a little like Luna was her friend, too. Maybe someday she would be.

"I don't like these numbers," Clarke said, tapping on the tablet where Luna's chart was loaded, "but you're stable for now. I'm going to order a few more tests, and reach out to some of my colleagues, and we're going to figure this out. It's just going to take a little time."

Luna's eyes narrowed like she didn't believe her. Maybe she just didn't want to allow herself hope when there was still no diagnosis, no treatment plan, only a doctor she didn't know making promises she might not be able to keep. 

Not that Clarke had used that word. Not with Luna. But she'd said it to Lexa, and she had no choice but to keep it, because if she didn't...

Clarke didn't want to think about what might happen if she didn't. 

"Try to get some rest," Clarke suggested. "Sometimes that's the best thing."

"Sometimes it's the only thing," Luna said, her head falling back against her pillow, the last of her energy spent. She rolled her head toward the window, even though it was getting dark and the only thing out there to see was more buildings, and off in the distance, a parking lot. She sighed and looked back at Clarke. "Thank you for coming." It sounded almost like dismissal, or maybe like Luna had already given up. 

"You can't," Clarke said, realizing too late that she'd said the words out loud. She pressed her lips together, then took a step closer to Luna's bed. "You can't give up," she said. "If I thought you were past helping, I wouldn't be here."

"I'm trying," Luna said, a rasp in her voice that hadn't been there even a few moments before, and Clarke's fingers twitched, itching to get to a computer to do some research, to see if any of the theories she'd come up with when she'd first been given the case held water with the information she had now that she'd actually examined Luna herself.

"I'm going to go make some calls," she said. "I'll be back in a bit to check on you." 

Luna nodded, her eyes closing, and Clarke watched the rise and fall of her breathing for a moment before heading for the makeshift office she'd been given.

* * *

Lexa was jolted awake by a muffled curse, followed a second later by something heavy colliding with the bed. She jerked upright, fumbling for the switch of the bedside lamp, but she couldn't find it, and why did they always put the controls for lights in hotels in the least logical places possible? 

"Sorry," a voice hissed. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to wake you, I just—"

"Clarke," Lexa breathed, slumping back against the pillows. "Shit. I'm sorry. I left my clothes everywhere, and—" She reached out, got her fingers around Clarke's wrist in the dark as she crawled into bed beside Lexa and pulled her closer. She'd left a key for Clarke at the desk and texted her her room number, not knowing whether she would show up, and not sure if she should hope she did nor not. 

"So you weren't intentionally trying to booby-trap the place?" Clarke asked, her tone light and teasing as she settled into Lexa's arms, one leg sliding over Lexa's thigh, her toes chilly as they grazed Lexa's calf. 

"The only boobies I'm interested in are not of the trap variety," Lexa said, her fingers skimming up Clarke's side. 

She felt Clarke shiver and press herself closer, her breath warm where it gusted in a soft laugh against Lexa's skin. "I take it they're also no of the blue-footed seabird variety?"

Lexa shook her head, her nose brushing against Clarke's as she reached under her shirt to unhook her bra, but then she couldn't figure out how to get her out of it with her shirt still in place. The material was well-worn but somehow coarse, and Lexa realized Clarke was still wearing her scrubs. Under any other circumstances, Lexa might have found it sexy, but knowing there might be lingering traces of whatever was burning Luna away from the inside out on them made her shudder. "You're overdressed," she said. 

"Mm," Clarke said, a non-committal and possibly half-asleep noise, but she didn't object when Lexa forced her upright to strip her out of the top, and then her pants while she was at it, and as long as she was down there...

Lexa parted Clarke's legs, pressing kisses up the inside of her thigh, and Clarke's back was already arching before she'd even reached the apex of her journey, offering herself to Lexa, her hips rolling to match the rhythm of Lexa's tongue as she flicked it over Clarke's clit. Clarke's hands fisted in the sheets as she squirmed, only letting go when Lexa slowed down, wanting to draw out Clarke's pleasure because even if she'd returned Clarke's in-flight favor, she still felt like she owed her. 

But just like before, Clarke wasn't interested in being teased. She slid her fingers into Lexa's hair, guiding her mouth back to where she wanted it, and Lexa laughed, and then laughed again when the vibration of it made Clarke writhe. Clarke moaned, long and loud, and Lexa relented, not making her wait any longer to get what she so obviously wanted.

* * *

Clarke pulled Lexa up over her, not minding a bit as her weight pressed Clarke into the mattress. There was something almost comforting about it, and she sighed into the crook of Lexa's neck as she settled against and half on top of Clarke. Clarke nuzzled against her jaw until Lexa tilted her face down, and kissed the taste of herself from her lips. "God..." she whispered. "You're so..." But when she tried to think of a word that could encapsulate Lexa, she drew a blank. Or she thought of a hundred, but none of them were enough, and finally she just shook her head and kissed her again. 

She let her hand wander, one still snarled in the silk of Lexa's hair, but the other made its way down her side and over her hip, short nails dragging over the back of her thigh, but Lexa caught it, pressing it flat. "You need to rest," she said. "You have a busy day tomorrow."

"But—" Clarke started to object, but Lexa shook her head, bringing her hand – still joined with Clarke's – up to press a finger to her lips. 

"Don't worry about me," Lexa said. "I know you've got me."

Clarke felt her throat tighten, because it felt like those words were even more significant than the so-called three little ones she'd said earlier. They didn't just mean she cared about Clarke; they meant she _trusted_ her. With her body, with her heart, with her friend's life... maybe with her own. Clarke blinked against the stinging in her eyes, finally giving in and closing them as she cuddled just a little bit closer and brushed her lips against the delicate line of Lexa's clavicle. 

"I do," she whispered, the words mingling with Lexa's soft sigh. "I do."

* * *

In the morning, for just a moment, everything as soft and beautiful, and Lexa could imagine they were at home in one of their beds, and the day stretched in front of them, full of possibilities. Then she remembered that they were in a hotel next door to a hospital, and in that hospital one of her best friends was lying sick with no one knew what, and it was Clarke's job to figure it out before Luna got sicker. Before she ran out of time. 

And she didn't have any fucking pants.

She groaned, remembering the mess she'd made the night before, the mess that had nearly taken Clarke out when she stumbled in in the middle of the night, or the wee hours of the morning, or... Lexa hadn't bothered to check the time, and she didn't suppose it really mattered. 

"Morning, sunshine," Clarke said, cracking one eye open and peering at Lexa from behind a curtain of golden hair. 

"Don't you sunshine me," Lexa grumbled, but she couldn't help smiling, especially when Clarke puckered her lips into a pout until Lexa kissed her. "I need to find a store."

"Why?" Clarke asked, shifting so they were face-to-face but still practically conjoined from the waist down. 

"Because I need to buy something," Lexa said. "Obviously."

Clarke huffed out a laugh, rolling her eyes. "You're just full of piss and vinegar this morning," she teased. 

Lexa wrinkled her nose. "I haven't gotten up to pee yet, so... that's at least half true."

Her snark was rewarded with another laugh, and she bit back a smile. "What did you forget?" Clarke said. "Maybe I have—"

"Pants," Lexa said. "I don't think we're the same size."

"Oh," Clarke said. "I mean, scrubs are basically one size fits no one well, so..."

"I'm not wearing scrubs," Lexa said, too quickly and too loud, and Clarke flinched. "Sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just—"

"I know," Clarke said, smoothing back her hair and stroking her temple with the backs of her fingers. "You're worried about Luna. I am—"

She stopped herself, looking away, then looked back at Lexa. "I am too," she admitted, and somehow that was more reassuring to Lexa than any promise, because she knew it was _real_. This wasn't Luna's doctor, quoting facts and figures and statistics and odds. This was her girlfriend Clarke, admitting she was human, and fallible... but it wasn't going to stop her from trying.

"I should let you go," Lexa said. "I'm sure—"

"I have a little time," Clarke said. "They're monitoring her closely and will alert me if there are any changes I need to be aware of. I have several calls in to colleagues and I'm waiting on test results. Nothing is happening right now." 

Lexa wanted to melt into the look Clarke was giving her, the suggestive spark in her eyes, but the thought of Luna sitting in bed, alone with only nurses and interns who had the needs of who knew how many other patients to attend to and her own thoughts for company, made her restless and she pulled away. "Pants," she said. "I need—"

"Okay," Clarke said. "What about some breakfast while we're at it?"

* * *

Clarke sipped her coffee while Lexa flipped through the stacks of jeans at the nearest chain store. She honestly didn't see what the problem was with Lexa wearing her yoga pants to the hospital again; no one was going to judge her for it. Hell, no one was even going to notice. She might as well be comfortable... or as comfortable as it was possible to be when visiting the ICU. 

"Seriously, Lex—" she started, but stopped at Lexa's glare. She held up her hands in surrender and went to go browse the novelty tees, hoping to find something that might make Lexa smile again. 

She kept watch on Lexa out of the corner of her eye, and when she saw her head for the dressing rooms, she followed, dodging past the attendant (who wasn't really paying attention anyway. It was early enough that there wasn't anyone else around, so she didn't have to guess at which of the little rooms Lexa was in. 

"Do I get to see?" she asked, when the sounds of rustling stopped. 

She heard a thump and a muttered curse, but the door edged open and Clarke slipped inside. "It's a good thing you're a doctor," Lexa groused. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." She twisted her arm around to try and look at the back of it. "As it is, I think I broke my funny bone." 

"Poor baby," Clarke said, taking her arm and kissing it, letting her lips linger in the crook of her elbow. She looked up at Lexa. "Better?"

Lexa sucked in a breath and nodded, then shook her head, and Clarke kissed the delicate skin again. "What about now?" Lexa's eyes were all pupil, only the thinnest ring of green surrounding the black, and if Clarke had known it was that easy...

"So lets see these jeans," she said, her fingers trailing down Lexa's arm but not letting go, instead using it to spin her around in a slow twirl. "They fit pretty well," she said appraisingly, "although I'm not sure they quite do that ass of yours justice..." She watched Lexa's cheeks flood pale pink, "and they might be a little snug in the hips. I mean..." Clarke traced her finger along the pocket, hooking it and pulling Lexa half a step closer. "I can barely get a finger inside..."

Lexa let out a shuddering breath as she stumbled into Clarke, and Clarke seized the opportunity to wrap her right arm around her while her left deftly popped the button on the jeans and slid down the zipper, peeling them down Lexa's hips. "I think," she breathed into her ear, "you should try another pair..." 

Lexa whimpered as the jeans slid down her thighs to pool at her ankles, and Clarke's hand slid under the elastic of her panties and into the slick heat between her legs. She guided Lexa until she was safely free of the jeans (that fit perfectly, really, but that wasn't the point...) and braced against the wall before demonstrating where she had no problem at all fitting a finger, and then a second, her thumb circling Lexa's clit as she crooked her fingers inside, and Lexa's breath came in quick pants and stifled moans, hot against Clarke's sweat-damp skin. She shuddered and quaked, rising up on her toes as the pressure built and then collapsing when it finally released, leaving her as limp and spent as the jeans on the floor, draped against Clarke like a garment that had slipped from the hanger and caught on something else before hitting the floor.

"How...?" Lexa gasped. "How do you... _always_... do that to me?"

Clarke turned her head to kiss her. "Just lucky, I guess," she said. "And you should definitely buy those jeans."

* * *

Lexa sat heavily on the bench in the changing room, trying to get herself back together before exiting, because she didn't want to clue the attendant in on what had just gone down. Clarke had slipped out already, hopefully with as much stealth as she'd used to get in in the first place. "I'll meet you at the register," she'd said. 

Lexa thought about trying on another pair of jeans, just in case, but who was she kidding? She wasn't going to buy anything but the pair that was now drenched in memories... but thankfully nothing else. She slipped back into her yoga pants and gathered up the jeans... and nearly dropped them again when she opened the door and found Clarke standing there, her hand raised to knock.

"I thought we were—"

"You need to hurry," Clarke said, grabbing her wrist instead. "We need to get to the hospital." 

Lexa's heart clenched, and she found herself unable to move. "Is she—"

"No!" Clarke said. "Oh, Lexa, no. No, I got her test results. I know what it is. I know what to do!"

Lexa's feet unfroze and she hurriedly dumped the jeans on the counter for the attendant to return to the shelves. "What are we waiting for?" she asked. "Let's go!"

"Don't forget the jeans!" Clarke said, grabbing the pair from the top that Lexa hadn't managed to fold up all that neatly. 

"My best friend's life is hanging in the balance and you're the only one that can save her, and you're worried about _jeans_?" Lexa asked, trying not to laugh, because she knew if it was really that urgent that they get to Luna immediately Clarke wouldn't have stopped. 

"I mean... yes?" Clarke asked. "Your ass looked _really_ good in them." 

"Fine," Lexa said. "But you're paying."


End file.
